


Wound Up Tight

by alikuu



Series: Ost-in-Edhil [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Annatar being creepy as usual, M/M, Sauron's totally not suspicious knowledge of anatomy, Slice of Life, Unresolved Sexual Tension, gratuitous massage porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 23:03:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9791054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alikuu/pseuds/alikuu
Summary: Annatar knows all the right spots and there's nothing suspicious about his extensive knowledge of elven anatomy.





	

The forge fire was burning low, long had its flames been left to die down. The sole inhabitant of the spacious workshop was bent nearly double over a worn-out desk, the hardwood riddled with hammer marks, burns, grease stains and chemical discoloration, worn and scraped, as if thousands of tiny insects had been at it for decades.

The Maia peeled away from the door frame, not yet tired of his silent observation of the solitary craftsman, the last one to remain on that night, but wishing for a better angle of view of Celebrimbor’s work. Annatar’s silent footfall went unnoticed by the elf, as did his gaze sliding over the taut muscles around the Noldo’s bent spine, noticeable under the sleeveless tunic, which the craftsman preferred to wear in the heat of the forges.

The delicate instruments chimed and jingled over Celebrimbor's intricate design, too delicate for the Maia to observe without disturbing the elf, and for a while Annatar satisfied himself with examining the bits and pieces lying around the workshop - a scheme here, a jar of a gleaming substance there. He pulled dusty scrolls from the shelves, skimmed through pathetically incomplete star maps, which nevertheless showed the great zeal of the Noldor to record what little of the world they could observe.

There were sketches and equations on the chalkboard, written in Celebrimbor’s fast style and devoid of his formal hand’s elegance and embellishments. Fancifully Annatar traced a word with his fingers, copying its slanted angles and finding a loveliness in their ascetic functionality.

The Maia was good at keeping himself entertained and did not need the elf’s attention any more than he needed anything else from him. Nor did he care to keep track of time in the way that incarnates seemed so keen on doing. He could have spent the night and the day, and the ones that came after, in pretty much the same way - examining item after item in the workshop to the inconspicuous sounds of Celebrimbor's tinkering. However when the rustling of linen and the ugly popping of joints, along with a somewhat pained sigh came from behind his back, Annatar turned just in time to see the Noldo stretching his spine.

More cracking noises were heard as Celebrimbor raised his muscly arms over his head and tilted his neck back, stretching even further with a long groan. Annatar smirked to himself. He was certain that Celebrimbor had not noticed his presence, otherwise the elf would never have allowed himself to meow like that.

“Is everything alright?” He couldn't resist startling the elf. Celebrimbor jumped and would have toppled from his stool had Annatar not moved to stand directly behind him and rested his hands on the Noldo’s broad shoulders.

“Annatar!” Celebrimbor twisted his upper body around to look at him. There was fatigue in the lines around his lips, and weariness was turning his usually alert eyes somewhat foggy and dull. He had clearly worn himself down, the skin of his shoulders was cool, and he smelled like smoke from the fire, and the chemicals, and the lack of self-grooming of obsession.

“I hope you haven’t come to hound me to rest.” Celebrimbor said, a smile energising his otherwise exhausted face. “I really don’t need another person acting like my nursemaid.”

“Not at all.” Annatar reassured and Celebrimbor nodded, rolling his shoulders underneath the Maia’s still lingering hands. Another pop was heard and the elf winced.

“I’m sorry.” He smiled ruefully.

“You have stayed in one position for too long.” Annatar observed. “Allow me to help you.”

“How-” The elf was beginning to say, before a perfectly executed tug to his arm at exactly the right angle produced a loud pop and an involuntary sigh. These sounds were more telling than words, although the hitch of Celebrimbor’s breath as the Maia positioned his hands over the elf’s shoulder blades could have negated that meaning as well as confirmed it.

Unflinchingly Annatar pressed the tips of his thumbs into the unyielding flesh, lightly at first, but Celebrimbor’s wince and the instinctive way his body leaned away made it clear that the elf was in pain. Annatar narrow his eyes in annoyance. He was being deliberately gentle and yet, all elves seemed to know how to do was struggle and cry to various degrees. It got frustrating after a while.

However, Celebrimbor seemed resolved not to show weakness - he remained silent of protests, sitting up, with back slightly out of line, but only because of the painfully knotted muscles that jammed against each other, making the proper alignment of the vertebrae uncomfortable. If only the elf could see it as Annatar did - the damage he had already inflicted upon himself, and the fact that Annatar was actually helping him. Perhaps there would have been some measure of gratitude where there were only features pulled tight and lips thinned to near whiteness, showing a sliver of teeth in the crack between.

Resigning himself to the silly injustices that his dealings with incarnates were prone to bring, Annatar kept working Celebrimbor’s back until the rigid muscles there began to relax, the blood flow renewed under the pressure of his thumbs and heat radiated from underneath the grimy, sweat stained texture of the Noldo’s tunic.

Celebrimbor soundlessly sighed, once, twice, and kept exhaling slowly and deeply in a way that suggested relaxation and satisfaction, slowly becoming softer and more pliant against Annatar’s ministrations. Once again the elf let his shoulders sag forward, but this time it was in a gesture of acceptance and submission. Annatar found himself smiling without conscious effort. A very small victory, but he found satisfaction in achieving it nevertheless.

“Thank you.” Celebrimbor said after a while, sitting up and stretching his neck to one side and then to the other. More popping joints, but this time they did not sound as angry or offended as before. “I nearly fell asleep just there. Perhaps I should get some rest, continue tomorrow…”

“I’m not finished yet.” Annatar pointed out.

Celebrimbor peeked back over his shoulder. He was smiling once again and blushing, an involuntary reaction, Annatar knew, which could mean anything from indignation to arousal. Or simply a rise in body temperature due to induced muscular exertion, as seemed to be the case - the elf’s flesh was decidedly warmer underneath his palms.

Either way, blushing and shiny eyes were often signals of a creature trying to make itself more attractive to its peers in an effort to find some kind of reconciliation. After that many years spent by his side, Celebrimbor was always giving him friendly cues, even when arguing or trying to disagree.

“It’s a lot better now. My back feels great.” He said, straightening fully as if to demonstrate that his spine could do that again.

“And what about your neck.” Annatar pointed out, running his fingertips up Celebrimbor’s spine until his hand closed over the elf's nape. The Maia used his other hand to brush the curtain of black hair out of the way. Celebrimbor gulped rather loudly and went uselessly still and uncooperative, doing nothing to help as a mass of thick dark tresses slipped out of Annatar’s hand over the field of his work.

Suppressing a sigh of impatience, Annatar gathered the hair again, clutching it at the base of the elf's neck almost like in a ponytail, and only once he was certain that he had a grip of it all, swung the black mane over the front of the elf's shoulder. Celebrimbor took in a very discrete breath, the first after a long pause.

Annatar had to smirk. It was amusing how easily riled up elves could get, especially when certain body-parts were involved. Hair, genitalia, ears, only a few of the places that got most elves to stop thinking about anything else and start considering sex, whether they had an interest in the matter or not.

Seeing Celebrimbor doing it was almost endearing, Annatar decided. He had long ceased to think of the Noldo as just another elf. Yes, he was an insufferable, limited, finite creature, but he was Annatar’s insufferable, limited, finite creature.

The Maia decided against teasing him on purpose. It was unnecessary and there was nothing to gain from it, therefore he refrained from carding his fingers through Celebrimbor’s hair a few more times, under the pretence of getting rid of the last few hairs that stuck to the back of his pale neck, or purposefully grazing his ears with fingernails, only to see him shudder.

Instead, he indulged in a brief fantasy of closing his hand over Celebrimbor’s nape tighter, digging the fingertips into the lean muscles at the sides of his neck, and hearing him cry out in alarm and surprise. Just a little show of possession, not meant to really hurt and definitely not meant to maim or kill. But there was no reason at all for any of that. And irrational impulses were not Annatar’s domain, even if they proved that perhaps, Celebrimbor was growing on him a little too well.

The elf finally seemed to find his mobility, mind no doubt done sorting through the long mental list of pros and cons of engaging in sexual acts and finally having landed back on the present. There was no particular smell of a spike in pheromones in the air, so apparently Celebrimbor was keeping a level head, contrary to the lolling movement of his neck that had him tipping his head back and very much in the way of Annatar’s meticulous work.

Frowning in annoyance, Annatar tipped Celebrimbor’s head forward and the elf got the hint, remaining in the position that he was guided to. Once again the Maia had to push loose hair away and like clockwork the elf held his breath and sighed a few moments later.

“That feels good.” Celebrimbor murmured as if it wasn’t obvious that he was enjoying his neck massaged way more than his back. He had taken to sighing and making small appreciative noises, like a lesser animal getting stroked.

Exactly eighty two seconds, Annatar remembered. The amount of time it took for an elf’s brain to start pumping endorphins when held in the embrace of a warm body. Temperature and the amount of pressure were significant factors, but it didn't take much effort to get it right. Another minute or more, depending on the subject, for the sense of trust to start settling in. Even less time was required for the Edain. If Eru hadn’t intended them to be ruled, why had he created the incarnates so susceptible?!

How could creatures such as these ever be able to know what’s best for them?

Annatar made an noncommittal noise, only because he realised that Celebrimbor had become tense in the silence after his earlier statement. Once he had emitted a little hum, the elf was back to melting against his touch.

Soon enough Annatar was satisfied with the state of the muscles which shielded the highest point of the spine and took the elf’s left arm, lifting it up and away to reveal a set of inner muscles just behind Celebrimbor’s raised shoulder blade. When the fingers of his other hand pressed into the flesh behind the bone, Celebrimbor let out an undisguised moan and Annatar raised an eyebrow. The elf had become more drugged on his innate chemicals than Annatar had cared to notice.

The Maia continued, pulling Celebrimbor’s arm further back, intending to have the muscles stretch and the shoulder pop, but the elf was once again back to protesting, loudly so, having loosened his previous inhibitions.

“Ah! Don’t do that!” He demanded and Annatar had the urge to pull his arm out of its socket just to demonstrate to the elf that he had zero power to tell a Maia what to do and what not to do.

Annatar restrained himself. He was on a mission to help Celebrimbor, not hurt him.

He didn’t pull the arm out, but he didn’t stop until he was satisfied with the stretch, even as the elf yelled in alarm.

“Hush, I know what I’m doing.” Annatar reassured bluntly but it was enough. Celebrimbor nodded, accepting this with an ease that still surprised him.

He proceeded to rub the tension out of Celebrimbor’s triceps with the fingertips of both hands, sliding over the exposed skin of the elf’s arm. The long muscle he found there was rigid and as tough as stone, the product of long hours of work in the forges. The elf’s skin was velvety in contrast with the hardness underneath and it was much more pleasant to touch than the texture of Celebrimbor’s tunic, or the fragility of his neck, where the Maia had not dared to press too much, lest it accidentally snapped. Celebrimbor’s arms on the other hand - Annatar could press a little harder, and even if there was an agonised expression on the Noldo’s face, he was not protesting or whimpering - taking the sting without fear and with a newfound understanding that Annatar was helping him. There was satisfaction in that in and of itself.

And as soon as the muscle became a little more supple under Annatar’s coaxing ministrations, Celebrimbor began to moan and sigh, discovering pleasure in the relief that came after the soreness was gone. His back was leaning further and further back and while there was no backrest to his stool, it soon became obvious what he was hoping to do. With a little vexation and a great deal of fondness, Annatar stepped a little closer and as if by accident Celebrimbor leaned his back on his body, at first tentatively and then more firmly, relaxing against him.

Annatar had to raise his arm up and hold it there by the elbow while he moved to Celebrimbor's left biceps and beginning the same process of loosening the tortuously overexerted muscle. The Noldo was being no help at all, not in holding his own arm up nor purposefully relaxing his muscles to make the process easier. Instead he was bracing himself against Annatar’s front, seeking that release of oxytocin that would ease his perception of pain. The Maia let him and after finishing the upper arm, moved to the forearm, where apparently one of Celebrimbor’s sensitive spots was hidden. As soon as Annatar’s fingertips ran the long line of his extensor, the elf let out a groan that was markedly different from the rest.

This time Annatar paused, giving Celebrimbor a moment to voice protests, flinch away or offer an excuse to end the Maia’s ministrations. However none such came, and Celebrimbor only rearranged himself on the stool to lean against the Maia more comfortably and raised his face in expectation.

Annatar had to smirk at the cheek. He didn’t care either way what Celebrimbor got out of the massage, and the possibility of a little arousal was nothing new around incarnates. They could get like that seemingly at any time and without quantifiable stimulation. They did it so often that for him it hardly differed from any other emotional state they could be in, especially if they choose not to act upon it.

But contrary to the customary dullness, the instance quickly became amusing, because Celebrimbor didn’t seem to realise that he was enjoying himself too much. He repeatedly praised Annatar’s skills and remarked upon how well his arms felt and how pleasant the sensation was, and even murmured something along the lines that he didn’t wish for it to stop.

Annatar had to actually stifle a little laugh. This elf could be very endearing indeed.

“By the sea and stars!” Celebrimbor breathed as the Maia moved to the palm of his hand, rubbing the fleshy bits under his digits and pulling carefully on each finger. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good!”

Annatar had quite a few responses to that statement, but any of them would have shattered the moment and turned it into something else entirely. Instead, he decided to take the compliment.

“I’m glad.” He laid out loftily and let a lazy smile stretch his lips as he imagined the elf’s face if he had asked him how the massage compared to the times he touched himself. The look that could elicit would have been, Annatar imagined, precious.

His smile widened.

Celebrimbor’s smile, directed up at the Maia, grew to a sparkly-eyed grin in response.

When Annatar was done with the left arm, the elf looked at his hand, clenched and unclenched it, and moved the wrist around as if testing a brand new appendage.

“That was marvellous.” He commented and after a momentary pause of consideration, turned in his seat, propped his back against the desk’s worn edge and offered his right arm forward.

Annatar took it, raising an eyebrow at the way the elf had turned to face him. He wanted to watch, Annatar realised, but doubted Celebrimbor was self-aware enough to understand his own behaviour. Elves liked to pretend they were above carnal pleasures, even as they organised feasts where they stuffed their bellies full of foods they found highly palatable, wore the finest fabrics so that they would caress their skin, soaked in water for long periods of time for the same reason and hugged each other at pretty much any excuse of an occasion.

“If my memory serves me right, and it always does, you claimed you didn’t need the additional massage.” Annatar couldn’t resist teasing and Celebrimbor frowned and blushed again.

“I had no idea a massage on the arms could feel like this.” He said and waved his outstretched arm in the air between them. “Can you continue, please?”

Annatar’s smile pulled until it showed teeth and he took the offered limb, making Celebrimbor sigh in anticipation of pleasure.

The massage proceeded in the same way as before, with Annatar beginning with a deep twist of the entire arm. This time he had to step close to Celebrimbor, who had clearly forgotten about the painful part, and the elf's face pressed against the loose robes over Annatar’s abdomen. The Noldo remained nice and quiet while the Maia’s fingers went around him to press behind his shoulder blade. Unfortunately, Annatar suspected that the newfound obedience had little to do with actual learning and everything to do with the fact that Celebrimbor felt more uncomfortable with their position than the discomfort in his arm.

Once that was done, the Maia stepped back, giving the elf space, and wasn’t surprised to find Celebrimbor’s face flushed all the way to the tips of his ears, refusing to meet his eyes.

He continued to work the triceps and then the biceps with Celebrimbor remaining mostly silent. It was out of pride, Annatar knew, now that they were facing each other, Celebrimbor was reluctant to show the rawness of his sensations, and that included letting out noises of pleasure or pain.

When he got to the elf’s right forearm things once again changed and Celebrimbor’s eyes alternated between watching the movements of his fingers over his extensor muscles, looking away to a spot in the middle distance, and letting his eyelids shutter them nearly closed. Annatar found himself watching Celebrimbor’s face closely in those moments when the elf had willingly relinquished all control and conceded him the entirety of his trust. It was not an expression he had often seen, and never directed at him.

No longer so ruthlessly amused, Annatar slowed down the ministrations of his hands, drawing out the final moments of his massage, making room before the inevitable end. For what - he did not know.

“Your muscles were more cramped here than anywhere else.” He commented. Celebrimbor’s eyes opened and refocused on him.

“Don’t turn into that nursemaid now.” The Noldo protested in a voice that was hoarser and deeper than his usual tones.

“You think I’d tell you to work less? Push yourself less hard?” Annatar raised an eyebrow.

Celebrimbor regarded him challengingly, as if his eyes weren’t half-lidded in pleasure he could barely hide. Annatar’s hands ran over his muscles now only to stretch the moment, despite the tension having long been eased away. The massage had turned into a caress and both of them had noticed.

“I’ll never be anybody’s nursemaid. I have little regard for those who yawn and look forward to their beds when there is still work to be done.” The Maia said, accentuating his words with the workings of his fingers, now skirting down Celebrimbor’s arm to his palm and starting on the plains and rises there, working the sensitive muscle between the thumb and forefinger.

“So you would like me better, the more sleep-deprived and obsessed I become?” Celebrimbor asked with a tired smirk.

“Your torment is not what I desire.” He explained. “Although its fruits I can appreciate.”

For the first time Annatar turned his eyes to the invention his elf had been working upon, so late into the night. I was a small, mechanical thing and it required lenses and focused light even for Celebrimbor’s keen eyes to observe. His tools, however, he had handled without the aid of steadyhands or implements to lessen the shake of the fingers. But Celebrimbor’s fingers did not shake, and Annatar had to run his hand over the elf’s opened palm in appreciation for the fine instrument it made.

“Don’t you want me to tell you what it is?” Celebrimbor asked. Exhaustion was finally defeating him and even the pleasure no longer ignited sparks of excitement but a deep-rooted sense of self-preservation, which dictated that comfort meant a time for rest had finally come.

“In the morning.” Annatar decided, seeing that he had precious little time before the elf toppled over and surrendered to sleep. For a moment the Maia envisioned catching him and carrying his limp frame to bed, but that was a fancy so ridiculous that he immediately discarded the thought. If Celebrimbor fell asleep before he was in his bed, then perhaps Annatar was going to throw a cover over him to keep him from catching a cold, but nothing more.

“They say that when creative passion took Feanor, he did not eat, sleep or rest for weeks.” The elf was murmuring and it sounded like little more than the babble coming from the lips of the half-awake. “I always wondered if that was a dramatic exaggeration or the truth. Either way, I could not be that way. I guess I am one to yawn after all…”

“Not as much as others.” Annatar stated, finishing his massage quickly, finding little point in continuing when his companion was no longer in the mind to pay him full attention.

“Thank you.” Celebrimbor said, looking up and trying to blink drowsiness away.

Annatar smiled.

“I will see you tomorrow.” He said and prepared to turn on his heel when Celebrimbor rose from his seat.

“Shall we walk together for a bit?” He asked and followed Annatar out of the workshop in the same breath.

“Of course.” The Maia said, and told himself that the reason the elf's presumptions didn't bother him was that he did not care enough.


End file.
